


Craving

by itsnotlove



Series: I adore you [2]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cravings, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 00:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8555050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotlove/pseuds/itsnotlove
Summary: Shizuo has a craving, but has no idea what it's for.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hanakoryu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanakoryu/gifts).



There were a great many things that Shizuo had done that really should have been impossible, such as benchpressing a minivan, or yelling so loudly that windows rattled for blocks around him. Or even being able to outmatch foreigners who couldn’t fit through doors without bending at the knee, or biting a knife into pieces after it had been thrown at him, or- well, you should get the point.

 

Heiwajima Shizuo is a man who can accomplish the impossible without trying or even realising. He could and should be famous, and if he had a slightly different temperament (or slightly looser morals), then he surely would be. As it was, he was perfectly content to spend his days in peace. He didn’t long for much, only wanting to earn enough money to pay his debts and buy himself smokes every now and then.

 

Or, that had been what he’d wanted until recently.

 

With the skies clear and the air free of a certain type of stench, Shizuo found his fingers itching. He smoked more, each puff of his cigarette an attempt to fill the growing hole inside his chest with something that might trick the rest of him into forgetting the emptiness. When the cigarettes burned his throat and stained his lips but left nothing in the form of relief, Shizuo set his sights on something different.

 

Sweets.

 

It had been a while since he’d had anything sweet, so it was likely the thing he was craving. He gorged himself, even by his own standards, on a variety of cakes and lollies and other confectionaries, only to find himself ill.

 

And empty.

 

After some consideration, Shizuo decided it might be best to seek the advice of someone cleverer than himself. Unfortunately, cleverer often meant irritating, and it took several attempts at conversation with multiple people before he finally found the advice he was looking for.

 

On a cool morning, Shizuo met with the Headless Rider, who tried her hardest to sympathise with him. At first, she said that she didn’t know how he felt, because she never ate, and therefore didn’t know what a craving felt like. There was her longing for her Head, but that was something she kept to herself.

 

“Isn’t that the same?” Shizuo had asked, staring at the cigarette between his fingers. “I don’t know what it tastes like, I just know I want it.”

 

That, Celty felt she could understand.

 

[Have you had it before?]

 

“Nah, I don’t think so. If I had, then I’d know what it was, right?”

 

Celty nodded solemnly, unable to argue with that logic. [What does it remind you of?]

 

Shizuo tilted his head backward so that his face was aimed at the sky, and closed his eyes to think. He hadn’t actually tried thinking this deeply about it, so it took a few moments for him to respond.

 

“Shit.”

 

[You can’t eat that!]

 

“No, no.” Shizuo waved a hand in front of his face. “Just reminds me of it.”

 

[That doesn’t sound like something anyone would want.]

 

Chuckling sadly, Shizuo extinguished his cigarette. “Then I guess it suits me, huh.”

 

Three days later, and Shizuo was still unable to pinpoint what he craved. He knew he’d recognise it once he saw it, and that it was something he’d had to some degree in the past. Whatever it was, it had left his life without so much as a goodbye, leaving him with a hole that had no hope of being filled.

 

It made him more sad than angry, which reflected in his work. Rather than tossing debtors into buildings, he slid them across the ground like a bowling ball, too caught up in his own concerns to exert any extra effort.

 

Life had been difficult before, but now, it was downright painful.

 

Another four days passed, and though he’d thought he’d caught the scent of what he wanted at least once, he had been unable to target it. He’d run into the closest bakery when he thought he’d smelled it, only to be let down by the array of sweets and pastries. They’d been pretty, and were probably delicious, but they weren’t what he was looking for.

 

It was hopeless.

 

Utterly hopeless.

 

“Tom-san?” Brought out of his thoughts by the aura of nervousness surrounding his senpai, Shizuo looked around the area. 

 

“Just forget about him today, he’s not worth it.”

 

“Wh-” Shizuo’s eyes locked onto Izaya’s, a mischievious glint taunting him from half a block away. “IZAYA! YOU BASTARD!”

 

And with that, the chase started.

 

With the wind at his back, Shizuo darted down the street as the bastard took off running. His palms itched for the sensation of bending metal, and his feet screamed at him to move faster. 

 

Everything was a whirlwind of colour, nearly blinding him as his vision tunnelled onto the parasite running ahead of him.

 

He needed to move faster.

 

Faster…

 

Catch him, kill him, break him, rip him apart!

 

He wanted to pull each limb from that shitty body and beat the torso with them. 

 

To throttle him to the point where he might die, only to release him and punch his stupid face until it broke.

 

That stupid fucking smirk- he wanted it gone forever.

 

And that fucking annoying laugh! Was he a kid? Did he think this was funny?!

 

Roaring, Shizuo urged his legs to move faster. He sprinted more quickly than he ever had before, ignoring the street signs and other projectiles in the hopes he might finally catch up.

 

His palms itched more furiously, begging Shizuo to reconsider and launch something at the pest, but he ignored it.

 

He wanted to catch him.

 

If he caught him, he could kill him.

 

Izaya ducked down an alley half a block away, and Shizuo took the next corner. He knew these streets like the back of his hand, and knew he could cut Izaya off at the pass if he climbed up the nearest fire escape.

 

He took it three steps at a time, launching himself up the ladder until he was on the roof.

 

Without checking, he sprinted toward the ledge and leapt off it in the ultimate leap of faith.

 

As he fell, he kept his eyes open. With this much speed, it would be impossible for Izaya to move out of the way quickly enough, but he couldn’t see for the setting sun blinding him.

 

The closer Shizuo got to the ground, the closer he got to Izaya, and he reached out his arms just as his feet touched the ground, hoping that he’d finally be able to catch him.

 

Fur tickled his fingertips as his feet left craters in the cement, and he latched onto the hood of Izaya’s coat with just enough strength to keep him from running off.

 

He fell backward onto the ground, pulling Izaya on top of him. His arms quickly moved around Izaya’s waist, holding him in a death grip as Shizuo sought to centre himself.

 

He’d done it again.

 

He’d done the impossible.

 

Finally, after all these years, he’d caught him.

 

“Let me go.” No panic tinged Izaya’s voice, his tone forceful and ice cold. Something cool scratched Shizuo’s throat, and though he still couldn’t see for all the light, he knew it was Izaya’s knife.

 

Laughing, Shizuo tightened his grip. “I told you to stay outta ‘bukuro, bastard!”

 

Despite the pain, Izaya managed to laugh. “Shizu-chan, you mightn’t be human, but that doesn’t mean you’re a guard dog.”

 

“You bastard! My name is-” Shizuo was cut off by his own sense of smell and his mind screaming at him to pay attention. He sniffed the air, receiving a snort from Izaya in return, and looked around cautiously.

 

The smell.

 

The shit smell.

 

It was back.

 

He rolled them over so that he was pinning Izaya down with his body and looked around quickly. They weren’t in an area with any food stores, but the smell was so powerful that he almost couldn’t bare it. It hounded his senses, making him dizzy with want.

 

Finally, he might be able to sate his craving and return to his normal life.

 

“What’s that smell?”

 

“..?” Izaya didn’t respond, his expression becoming more inquisitive at Shizuo’s rapid change.

 

“Don’t you smell it?”

 

“...”

 

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS OR NOT?! IS THIS A TRICK, HAH?!”

 

“Shizu-chan, there’s no smell.”

 

“Yes, there is!” Shizuo leaned forward threateningly and bumped his forehead against Izaya’s. “I want it. Tell me what it is.”

 

“Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell- oi!” Izaya tried in vain to push his head further into the concrete as Shizuo craned his neck forward. He sniffed the air once, then twice, then brushed his nose against Izaya’s chin.

 

“Oh, fuck.”

 

“Wha-”

 

“It’s you.”

 

“I don’t sm-”

 

“You bastard!” Shizuo’s voice shook slightly in the corners as he realised the true gravity of the situation.

 

He was craving Izaya.

 

And worse, being this close to him wasn’t enough.

 

He needed more.

 

“Look-”

 

Izaya’s eyes were wide, a near crazed look on his face. He didn’t know  _ what  _ Shizuo wanted, but whatever it was likely was insane.

 

“-close your eyes.”

 

“No.”

 

“Close them.”

 

“No!” Though it was no use, and with his blade forgotten, Izaya shoved at Shizuo’s chest. “Get off.”

 

Shizuo frowned. “I don’t wanna do this anymore than you.”

 

“Do what?!”

 

A hand covered Izaya’s eyes, instantly causing the informant to lay still. With a hand that powerful on his face, one wrong move could kill him.

 

“Shizu-chan-”

 

“Just shut up, okay?” Shizuo leaned in further until their chests were pressed up against each other. He’d never done this outside of a dream before, but it had never looked too hard to do in the movies.

 

His free hand gripped at the concrete beside Izaya’s head, leaving fingermarks as Shizuo fought to steady himself.

 

It wasn’t that hard, right?

 

Just lean forward, and nature takes over or something.

 

He’d done impossible things all his life, so this should be a piece of cake.

 

Beneath him, Izaya trembled. Though he was in denial, he was knew what was coming next, and his body was in a panic.

 

Something strange tickled his stomach, fluttering beneath his skin and causing his cheeks to pinken. His lips felt dry and chapped, so he licked them to feel some form of relief.

 

His eyes squeezed closed even though they were already hidden, and his chin tipped higher until-

 

Something dry and soft brushed against the corner of his lips, shaking just enough to rattle the soft skin of Izaya’s cheek. He moved his head slightly and connected his lips with Shizuo’s properly, neither man so much as breathing as they kissed.

 

It was nothing more than an extended peck, really. It was chaste and innocent, with no tongue or teeth or violence. The contrast between the kiss and their history somehow made it better though, making Shizuo’s knees shake as he tried to stay as upright as he could.

 

After several long seconds, Shizuo pulled away. He sat atop Izaya and kept his hand covering his eyes for some time, just staring and trying to understand what happened.

 

“Shizu-chan?”

 

The hand moved away from Izaya’s face quickly, leaving the informant to blink his eyes open as the weight left his body. He sat up in time to squint through the final rays of the setting sun and watch as Shizuo took off running down the street.

 

He must be concussed, Izaya thought as he slowly rose to his feet and brushed himself off. There was no way any of that just happened.

 

But as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, it picked up the taste of something familiar. Something he’d wanted but never tried, and had never been able to name. Something he’d craved for years but had never located.

 

“Shizu-chan, you bastard.”

 

Now that he’d found it, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from tasting it again.


End file.
